Beloved
by Vema
Summary: Magus/Schala romance. Another incest warning. This story has been years in the making. What happens between brother and sister when one is forced back through time? Rated for lemons, and will probably be AU eventually. I thrive on reviews, please!
1. Chapter 1

Beloved

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By Vema

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He had taken her for the first time under the trees of the Palace Gardens, the pale yellow sun of Zeal warming his back through the leaves as he gently moved over her, kissed her neck, groaned her name into her skin.

It was the latest in a series of unwise decisions Magus had made during his time in Zeal. The first was allowing his younger self to see him. Janus had scowled and wandered off, muttering to Alfador as he went. Watching him, Magus had remembered himself as a child, seeing the Prophet, seeing the only person who seemed to have the black wind swirling around him thickly as well. The revelation sent him reeling; if he could remember himself being here in the past, it did not bode well for his intentions of revenge on Lavos, or for saving Schala.

This first error had led him to the second. He found himself trailing his beloved sister, watching her as his mind tried to sort out how to save her. He followed her all over the Kingdom of Zeal, and even followed her once when she went to see the Earthbound. When found, upon that expedition, she had asked him, eyes bright, if he wouldn't mind helping her to heal and comfort the desolate creatures, and despite his misgivings, he agreed. It was worth it, he thought, to see the pleasure in her face as they helped the inferior beings. As they worked, she asked his name, and he hesitated before telling her call him Magus. She laughed and quipped that it was another title she must remember.

At that point, he knew she must realize he'd been following her on her journeys. To his surprise, instead of protesting, she would often glance back and lift her aqua eyes, meeting his briefly before looking to the ground, a dark blush brightly coloring her pale skin.

The third was born of neglect. He was attempting to follow her discreetly, only realizing as he smelled the steam and saw her obscured, nude form that he was in the bath of Zeal Palace. She met his eyes and smiled shyly, and he panicked and ran back to his chambers, the image burned onto the backs of his eyelids.

From then on, as he watched her, he cursed many things about himself. Now knowing that he was following her so closely, she seemed to eye him and taunt him with her every movement. She suddenly looked so different from his memory of her. He had previously thought of her as slender woman, but tall, soft in a motherly way, full of maternal comfort.

Now, through eyes changed by time, magic, and the elements, she presented a much different image to his his eyes. Still slender, yes, but full of curves and sensuality his prepubescent self hadn't recognized.

She was still slender, but he eyes couldn't let go of her hips, round and swaying, mocking him, the way her chest heaved with breath as she concentrated on learning a new spell. Strangely, the juncture of her neck and shoulder was a source of fascination for him; he often found himself wondering what the skin there smelled, or tasted, like. Fevered dreams haunted his nights, full of long, pale peach limbs, wet heat, and three coveted words shaped by plump, pink lips; _I love you..._

His fourth decision was what ended his madness. Shame was an emotion Magus had rarely experienced. He was raised in a society where nearly anything was fair game, as long as you were powerful enough, but even with his position newly solidified as adviser to the Queen, his attraction to Schala (his _sister_, by the gods) was something he refused to act on. As a measure of self-protection, to ward himself from greater dishonor, he reversed his previous behavior and avoided her at all costs. When she entered a room, he departed as quickly as etiquette allowed. He averted his eyes from her as much as he could, shifting his gaze when he realized he was staring. Despite his efforts, he was haunted by her image on the back of his eyelids every day. During harrowing nights, he lay tortured and anguished, finally resorting to a cold bath or using his own hand to hasten his relief. It was with more shame that he turned more often to the latter solution, visions of her dancing around him as he shuddered under the moonlight.

After a a fortnight of his behavior, he was sitting alone in the Palace Gardens, surrounded by greenery in an isolated area, when she found him. How she'd done it, he would never know, but there she stood, her hair nearly teal in the yellowing sun of evening, surrounded by a halo of light. "Prophet," she said quietly, eyes on the ground at his feet, "Have I displeased you in some way?"

His mouth opened and closed a few times before he could find the words to respond. "No, Princess, nothing you could do would ever vex me. What could make you think this?" He closed the book he'd been perusing, standing quickly and taking her hands.

"I...I had thought... You had been giving me your attentions, for a while... Or was I imagining it?" She paused and looked at her small hands in his, and he looked as well, noting the similarities and differences. Slender, both, but hers were soft and smooth, his calloused and clawed.

His heart thudded in his chest. "No. I...it was folly, my Princess," he said softly. "You are so beautiful, so kind, I couldn't help myself. Do not worry that I look for you to feel the same. It is doubtlessly impossible for you to find room for one such as I in your heart, and so I attempted to remove myself so...you would not feel threatened." It wasn't a lie, though there was more that went into the decision than he told her. He watched her carefully.

They looked into each others eyes for long moments, the breeze singing through the branches of the trees surrounding them. She smiled brightly then, flinging her arms around his neck and laughing. "I think I love you," she whispered warmly, her breathe ghosting across his skin as her voice became more frantic. "It may be considered odd to some in Zeal, possibly even Mother won't approve, but nothing could ever change how I feel for you. Please, please stop shunning me, please..." She kissed his neck and cheeks and forehead over and over as he held her up, landing finally on his lips, repeating her mantra, _please, please..._

How could any man resist?

They sank to the grass in the hidden glade, he whispering endearments against her sweat-slick skin, she urging him on with desperate moans and clutching hands. He shrugged out of his cloak and tunic, and had opened her robes before he noticed her staring at him.

He appeared before no one out of his layers of clothing, the hood of his cloak pulled up, the better to avoid detection as a charlatan. Now, he searched Schala's eyes for recognition, but if he found it, it was not what he feared. Her hands traced his muscles with something like reverence, her breath coming short. "I didn't know how time changed..."

Panic flashed in his mind, his reluctance returning. "My lady?"

She ran her fingers over the lines of his face, pulling him down for a kiss, melting his resolve again. She whimpered and shuddered under him as he followed his instincts, tickling the skin under her breast before enveloping it in his large, warm hand. The peak of her nipple stiffened beneath his palm and his moan of desire reverberated through them both.

As he hurriedly removed her underclothes, she suddenly became shy. "I've never... I was saving..." she hesitated, unable to meet his gaze.

Desire and shame rose inside him anew at her words. He urged her legs apart, kissing down the inside of her thighs as he murmured, "Trust me." The smell and taste of her arousal was heady, and in what seemed like no time at all she was trembling and crying out, thrusting herself against his mouth unthinkingly in her pleasure.

As she sagged to the ground, she helped him moved up her body, opening to him. There was only a little resistance as he thrust his manhood into her, stilling himself at her cry to allow her time to adjust, whispering to her how perfect it was to be within her. Without moving his hips, he resumed his worship of her breasts, kissing her gently. He purred into her ear how good she felt, urged her to look down and see them joined together. He brought her to another shattering climax around him before he sought his own pleasure, finally groaning earnestly to her than he loved her, that he had never and would never love another.

As he collapsed to her side, she moved into his embrace, and he pulled her close, his brain crawling slowly back to a functioning state. With growing horror he considered what he had done, knowing that someday he had planned to reveal his identity to her. How could he, now that he had taken her most precious gift? The proof of her innocence was still drying on his skin, by all the gods, and she was his _sister_.

She must have felt him recoiling, for she leaned over him on her elbow suddenly, cupping his face in her hands. "What are you thinking? Why are you pulling away from me?" she whispered, eyebrows arching in concern.

"I'm not - "

She shushed him with her lips, kissing him deeply again, running her hand down his hard chest. When she pulled back, she looked pleased with herself. "I've made my choice, Magus, as you have. A secret from others, but I will keep nothing of my feelings from you." Her eyes darkened. "But, let me know now if this is a game. You have the gift of prophecy – surely you know how I would react if you were to play me false."

He took her hands and kissed them, fervently declaring his affections. He couldn't stand the thought of hurting her, and if it required that he live the rest of his life as her lover, and never gave her his true identity, he would do it no matter how much it hurt. He dressed her worshipfully before he dressed himself, then sank down beside her again. They lay together in the secluded glen until the huge full moon hovered overhead, surrounded by a halo of dark trees, content in each others arms.

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TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

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**_Apologies for the wait. I really want this to be exactly the way I see it in my head. Lots of sexiness implied, nothing terribly graphic though. Hope someone is enjoying this, lol. :)_**

It wasn't too hard for him to keep their secret, at least. He was already keeping so many things shrouded, the addition of another was nothing to be concerned about. His days were spent at the queen's beck and call, and his nights were spent surrounded by soft skin, the scent of Schala's airy perfume, like cotton with a hint of rose and amber. Surprisingly earthy for one who lived above the clouds.

He temporarily lost his focus, a danger of any romantic relationship but inexcusable with so little time left to achieve his ends. He allowed her presence as he worked, of course never revealing the intent of this study. Sometimes he let her distract him, and he eagerly brought her pleasure, as though worshiping her properly could absolve him of the guilt he felt for loving her at all, but it returned ten-fold afterward. It was never enough to dissuade him.

Once she tried to push him away, and when he asked why, she breathed embarrassed words about courses, and blood, and he needn't trouble himself. He assured her with fingers, lips, and tongue that it was no trouble at all, that she needn't ever be ashamed of her body. He adored every part of her, and every taste or touch of her that he received was a bit of heaven to store away, no matter how wrong it was.

As the queen began her descent into madness, she used Schala and her pendant to charge the Mammon Machine. She began to come to him only to fall asleep as he held her in his lap, attempting to finish his book before he comforted her. Her normally peaceful face began to take on a gaunt, pale appearance as she was drained daily of her life force.

Magus tried to hold his rage in check, knowing that to get closer to Lavos this was necessary, but every day it became more and more difficult to watch. She was slowly bleeding away from him, his beloved sister, and he could do nothing but watch. He was not a healer, and this was the first time he had regretted it.

Days became weeks. Weeks blurred into months. The cursed Machine brought them closer day by day to the monster below the sea. The people of Zeal remained ignorant and vapid, believing themselves above the need to worry for such petty things as survival. Queen Zeal was now nearly unrecognizable, a shell of her former motherly self, cruel and cold. It amused him how much he saw of himself in her now, how close to becoming her he was.

He hated her for it.

Schala sobbed into his shoulder nightly about her fears for her mother, for Janus, for her people, but never for herself. He carried that burden for her, the only one she let him bear.

Magus always accompanied his sister to the Earthbound caves now, afraid to let her travel on her own. He even helped to treat them through the various physical means that she taught him, though healing magic still eluded his expertise, no matter how hard she tried to show him the basics. Many times, as he was setting a bone, changing a poultice, even sitting and talking with the elders, which he was loath to do, he saw her staring at him with wonder on her face, which she quickly tried to hide as he turned to her. He couldn't ask; perhaps she thought she was changing him, making him better, and he couldn't bring himself to disappoint her.

Once, when he couldn't find her, he'd asked the dirty apes if they knew where she was, and they'd shown him a private room where she had lain down to sleep. She was laying on a pile of hay covered with a blanket in the corner, and he moved over her gently, unwilling to bring her out of slumber when it would undoubtedly help her heal. So he lowered himself to curl protectively around her, flinging his cloak over her to keep her warm. They lay there together through the entire night, and she slept on. He drowsed occasionally, taking note when Earthbound would poke their heads in, but none of them seemed to think there was anything wrong with the intimate way he held her.

They would be missed, he knew, when the time to charge the Mammon Machine came. That seemed inconsequential; this extra sleep could help her make it through the next few weeks. He would take the condemnation of the Queen on her behalf. He could do that much.

Magus woke Schala with soft kisses and softer fingers, bringing her to a slow, delicate peak as she whimpered sweetly and he whispered his love in her ear. He decided that it was the most beautiful thing he would ever see.

He held onto that feeling as the Queen shrieked at his sister about responsibility and immortality, and the smaller version of himself stepped forward to berate her back. She had him carried off by guards, and he allowed her to carry on for a few more moments before stepping in front of Schala, shielding her from their mother's wrath. "Your Grace, I foresaw that allowing Schala to rest yesterday night, with no drain on her, would hasten our goals." He felt Schala's surprise behind him, and he forced himself not to turn to her.

"Why did you not tell me of this before?" the Queen demanded immediately, turning her crazed eyes on him now. "I am the Queen here! I make the decisions!"

He bowed his head low. "Apologies, Majesty. I should have come to you as soon as I received the vision; however, we were on the continent, and it became clear that the Princess must be allowed to rest at once, with no delays. I felt it prudent to keep your best interests protected and she agreed."

"Hmph." Zeal was looking slightly mollified now, at least, and any anger she still felt was now directed away from his most precious one. "Then I suppose I should be thanking you, Prophet. However, in the future, I expect to hear about these new prophecies before you act on them."

He bowed respectfully, then waited for her to continue.

With a heavy sigh, the Queen turned to her daughter. "You will continue to rest in your room until this evening, when you will resume charging the machine. You may go."

Magus kept his eyes trained on the Queen as Schala left the throne room, unwilling to put Schala at further risk. He spent the next few hours planning with her, feigning attentiveness while he secretly wondered how his sister was doing. But he noticed the Queen's suspicious look and decided it would be for the best if he went back to his own room without stopping by Schala's afterward. He entered his room, planning to use some dragon's blood and amethyst to perform a divination spell, but as he was closing the door he felt a small hand on his forearm.

"You invented that prophecy, didn't you?" He turned to find he close, her eyes wide and red as though she'd been crying.

Magus took a moment to think, looking down into her face; this was the time. He could tell her everything, who he truly was, what he was truly doing here. But if she knew... how could she ever look on him with love, even only a sister's love, after his betrayal? He fought this urge to lay himself open to her, desperate for an answer he could give that would placate her fears without giving a hint to who he truly was. "Yes," he finally admitted, deciding some honesty imperative.

"You lied," she accused.

"I did. It was the only way to protect you from her wrath." He took her hand and was pleased when she didn't protest. "I can't stand to see you treated this way."

"How many more of your prophecies have been lies?" she demanded.

With a heavy sigh, he pushed his hood back, examining her teal eyes, and choosing his words carefully so none of them were false. "Everything I have seen has come to pass, or will come to pass."

She narrowed her eyes for a moment. "I see." He gave her several more moments of silence to puzzle out what was in her mind, keeping the fear he felt pushed down. Finally, something seemed to come together inside her, some understanding clicked into place, and her eyes softened. Then her delicate fingers were tracing the edges of his face, the sharp angles of his cheeks, a tremulous look in her eyes. "I see."

"Can you forgive me?" he asked brushing her hair back from her face and tracing her jaw with his thumb.

With a sad smile, she nodded, pulling him into her embrace. Burying her head in his chest, she closed her eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she said intensely, clutching him against her tightly as if she was afraid to let go.

"For what, my love?"

She tilted her head and stood on tiptoe to kiss him lightly on the lips. "For everything you have been through," she said quietly. "Your life must have been hard."

He nodded, feeling a lump in his throat. "It was worth it," he said fervently, "To be here with you. Now, we must not give your mother cause for any more ill will. Go to your room, my darling. Rest there, and after your nightly communion with the machine, I will see you again."

"Of course." She kissed him lightly again and swept out of the room, graceful as ever.

With a heavy sigh, he dropped to the edge of his bed, burying his face in his hands. As his love for her grew, and time brought them closer to when he would disappear, it was becoming harder to keep this most terrible of secrets. At the most inopportune times, it threatened to slip out of him. It would be so easy to just _tell_ her, but his concern for what would come next always stopped him. His sister was the most amazing person he had known; if anyone could forgive him for these trespasses, it would be her. But the chance that she wouldn't always stayed his tongue.

He gave Schala time to get to her room, the left and took the skyways to Kajar. There was a book there that had caught his attention, about a strange red rock that made him pause. It was possible there was some ancient magic there, something he could use to fight Lavos that he did not yet have. He entered the main building, about to begin his search when he saw a familiar mop of red hair. Cursing, he ducked behind a wall.

The children. Crono and his _friends. _How had they found their way here? They would ruin everything, all his plans, all his hard work. They had done it before.

He would lose Schala again, and he could not let that happen.

Quickly exiting, he made his way straight to the castle. Another prophecy was about to be made.

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TBC


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